


a bit of a minor celebrity

by Anonymous



Category: Horus Heresy - Various Authors
Genre: Canon Compliant, Crack, Dialogue Heavy, Existential Crisis, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 13:38:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13214874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Gen piece featuring Abaddon,TorgaddonTormageddon, Aximand, Erebus, and a short snippet of Loken! And Noctua too!Or: wherein Abaddon recognizes Torgaddon but everyone else thinks he's losing his mind.





	a bit of a minor celebrity

Their first encounter was entirely due to chance. The Luperci were relegated to the shadows and not, under most circumstances, to be found in the glory of the First Captain.

Abaddon drew his gaze to the sound of the commotion. One of the reborn, a loud one at that.

And then he saw the smile.

Perhaps if his memory had not been without fault, he could have shrugged it off as coincidence. But there was no such thing as coincidence, not in their world.

Fuck, he thought, as he snuck a second glance.

Tarik Torgaddon had been kicked out of the afterlife.

-

But the daemon was insistent.

"I am not Tarik," said he.

"This is a poor joke, even by your standards," Abaddon snorted.

"Because it's not one," Tarik snapped, "Have the years rotted away your eyes? Should we petition the Warmaster to bring an optometrist on deck? I look nothing like him!"

Abaddon looked him up and down.

"You sound just like him," he remarked. This was all horribly upsetting and a voice like Qruze nagged away at him, saying, _back in my day when you killed someone they had the common decency to stay dead._ But in these new and interesting times, it seemed like even decapatitation couldn't be trusted.

"Hello?" Tarik demanded, waving his hand in Abaddon's face in a manner that no one but Tarik would have attempted because anyone but Tarik would have been killed. "Second to First, anyone there?"

Abaddon did not know what to say, much less what to do. So he turned around and walked out of the room, as granted by his position as First Captain.

-

"What," Aximand answered, when Abaddon relayed to him this latest development.

It's a good thing they were sworn brothers already, because if Aximand were anyone else, Abaddon wouldn't have bothered repeating himself.

"What," Aximand said again. This time, with slightly more emphasis. "Ezekyle, are you -- alright?"

"Of course I'm alright," Abaddon snapped, "If anything, you should be asking Tarik if he's alright."

"I'm quite sure I removed his head from his shoulders," Aximand pointed out, though his voice was a little faint as the memory was not a pleasant one.

"Yes," Abaddon agreed, "I remember the same."

"But then -- ?"

"It's him," Abaddon insisted, "Go see for yourself."

What was there for Aximand to do? It wasn't every day the dead came back to life, much less a beloved brother.

-

The problem then, well, outside of the overarching problem which was Torgaddon still being alive (not, mind you, that Abaddon had a problem with Torgaddon, even when they were on opposite sides at the end he had never bore a grudge towards the other, but the point being was: the dead were supposed to stay dead! Break off that rule and what were you left with, in this war without rules?), was that Aximand had not known Torgaddon as long as Abaddon.

And so he took the side of the daemon.

"That looks nothing like Tarik," Aximand said after a couple minutes of intent observation.

"I know it looks nothing like him," Abaddon replied, growing irritable, "But it's still him."

Aximand concentrated a little harder. Then he whirled upon the first captain.

"Are you sure you don't need to get your eyes checked?" he asked, "Because I think you might've spent too much time with the maps..."

Refusing to sink to Tarik's level, Abaddon stood up and walked away, leaving Aximand to puzzle over his mental state.

-

"Strictly speaking, no," Erebus answered, when Abaddon took up the matter with him.

"What do you mean?" Abaddon asked. It had been a long and harrowing week topped off with a pile of eye examination coupons that Tarik (who refused to answer to _his name_ ) managed to dig up from who knows where. And Aximand, even after seeing it, still refused to believe it was him.

"Well, I obviously didn't have enough material to revive him in full. So I -- " Erebus shrugged here, as if walking through a field of Astartes' corpses was no big deal, "-- took a sample of his geneseed."

Abaddon furrowed his brows.

"His geneseed?" he repeated. "Then shouldn't -- "

"Yes," Erebus interrupted, nodding sagely, "He should resemble the man physically, but have a different personality."

"But then -- "

"There must have been a mix-up," he shrugged again, "Either with the spell or the tech-priests. Who can say? You're not offended, are you?"

Abaddon was feeling many things at the moment, but offended was not one of them.

"No," he rumbled, turning to leave, "Merely curious."

-

"You mindless brute," the daemon lamented when Abaddon accosted him a second time, "It's not Tarik, it's Tormageddon. Say it with me, come on now -- "

"Erebus confirmed it," Abaddon retorted. There was a trace of smugness in his tone.

"Erebus?" Tarik snorted, "That snake would tell you Sol revolved around Terra if he thought it was what you wanted to hear."

Abaddon had something in mind to say but it slipped from him entirely when Tarik curled his upper lip back, disgusted but still in good humour, another action that was uniquely his. He turned around and walked away, figuring it was a discussion that could be saved for a later day.

-

It couldn't, as it happened, for then they waged war on Molech and discovered that Loken hadn't died on Isstvan either. Which really begged the question, Abaddon thought, as to whether anyone died on in that protracted conflict. Perhaps all the corpses Erebus claimed to have found were more figments of imagination. What if no Astartes had ever killed _anyone_? The thought of the mountain of lives he had taken in battle being overwritten horrified him.

Anyways, Loken turned up and Aximand at least was made to swallow his words about the dead staying dead. But then Tarik had been killed -- again -- by one of Loken's comrades. A fellow Astartes from the Sixteenth, by the looks of his combat style. And so Abaddon thought to put the matter behind him.

-

"Oh no," Aximand groaned, kneading at his temples. "Ezekyle, really, you need to _seek help_."

"I'm telling you," Abaddon insisted, "He's back."

"Throne of Man," Aximand cursed, "I thought I had it bad, with seeing Garviel in the shadows of my dreams, but you?"

"Really," Abaddon took a shoulder and spun him towards Noctua, "You don't see it?"

"In Grael?"

"Tarik."

"It's Grael."

"No, it's Tarik."

Aximand looked Abaddon, then at Noctua, and then back at Abaddon. The First Captain's expression did not falter. Dear Emperor, Aximand thought, he's actually serious. Rather than dwell on how the First Captain was losing his mind, he threw his hands up and walked away.


End file.
